


Nineteen Years Later

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-22
Updated: 2007-08-25
Packaged: 2018-10-01 13:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Now the war is over, and life can begin anew (contains DH spoilers)





	1. The Look

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- None…yet…  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 833  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think?. All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story  
 **Author's Notes** \- Are any of you truly surprised? Oh, and the chapters will get longer *grin*

 

 

 

It was the same look that had crossed his face when they were bound and tied in his home. The same look that had crossed his face when, against all reasonable logic, Harry had come back for him. The look that had been perverted by a scream of terror as he clung to the Boy Who Lived-Then-Died-Then-Lived-Again and they fled the burning Room of Requirement only after Potter had salvaged a dingy tiara.

It was the look that was now trained on Harry Potter, wondering where the hell he'd gotten a kid from, and trying not to react to the jealousy inside. 

Then the look morphed into shock as Harry and the kid walked towards him.

Harry had spotted Draco, and couldn't quite explain the urge. The urge to go and rescue him, the urge that made no logical sense but still existed to this day, was directing Harry's feet across the platform of nine and three quarters. "Draco…Draco Malfoy?"

Draco nodded tersely, and shook the offered hand with some surprise. "Potter."

Nodding his head, Harry couldn't resist a slight tease. "I haven't seen you for years – your hairline's receded I see?"

The pale hand yanked out of his own and flew to Draco's hairline so fast it was a panicked blur, and Harry sniggered softly as Draco realised the joke and lowered his hand, pink splotches high on his cheeks as he glared. "Oh very fucking funny."

"Sorry…with Ron being a responsible dad, I have no one to torment."

"Your son, perhaps?"

That statement evoked an unknown feeling in both men, but neither reacted to it. Harry rested his hand on Teddy's arm and smiled softly. "This is my Godson, Ted Lupin. He's undertaking a year's work experience with the new Potions Master before he applies to study for his Mastery."

"Harry, I might not get in yet…"

Turning his smile on Ted, Harry shrugged. "Then you'll do something else. Think positive, Teddy, and then if this year isn't what you want, you can think of something else."

Draco felt like an intruder, like he was stood with a family he didn't belong to. Which, he supposed, he was. As he opened his mouth to excuse himself, Harry turned back to him and questioned, "So what are you doing here? Got a wife and kids yet?"

"That a joke, Potter?"

"Wha~…I…" Harry stammered, unsure of what he'd said that was so outrageous. The look on Draco's face was no longer the intriguing, unsure-of himself one, but a look of cold, impassioned fury. 

"I have accepted the position of Potions Master to help out Headmistress Parkinson."

With a snap of his robes that took Harry forcefully back to that night when the truth was told, Draco turned and boarded the Hogwarts Express, leaving Harry stuck dumb in his wake.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Finding Ron and Hermione, Harry kissed his niece goodbye and shook Ted's hand. As they stood on the platform waving them off, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione to relay the curious incident with Draco. Yet, he was cut off by the look of glee on Ron's face. "Harry, Mate, have you seen the Prophet today?"

"No, I came straight here, we both overslept. Why?"

A copy of the early edition was pushed into his hands, and Harry looked down at the paper in dawning comprehension.

 

_**Malfoy Millions Well Spent?** _

_This reporter can confirm, dear readers, that the Malfoy fortune which our Chosen_  
One demanded be released to their owner for reasons which he never fully explained,  
is being used for activities which would make our Saviour blush! 

_The Malfoy heir, Draco, has been using the gold so generously released back to his family,_  
to purchase a string of **male** prostitutes! While each one conforms to the same   
basic appearance, not one has ever been asked for a return visit. Charging up to sixty… 

 

Groaning softly, Harry felt the blush creeping up his cheeks, and Hermione's hand on his arm. "What is it?"

"I may have just insulted Draco Malfoy."

Ron's hand clapped onto his back. "Nice one mate! Now, isn’t there a café around here? I'm starving!" Scooping Hugo up he set off in search of food, leaving Harry to walk sedately with Hermione.

"'Mione?"

"Yeah?"

"It's…are the Prophet kicking off because Draco's…gay?"

Choosing not to comment on the use of his first name, Hermione shook her head softly. "You know better than that, Harry. They're just looking for any and every excuse to rally people against the Malfoys, just like they always have. Certain reporters cannot understand that, when push came to shove, all three of them abandoned their Lord to search out each other. Unless you were there, it's hard to imagine Lucius Malfoy searching through the crowds in a panic."

Nodding solemnly, Harry crumpled up the newspaper and tossed it in the bin before they left the platform. He was really screwed if the Prophet found out what he was spending the collective Black and Potter fortunes on.

TBC…


	2. Muggle Studies

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 2087  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think?. All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story  
 **Author's Notes** \- Are any of you truly surprised?

 

 

 

Draco sighed softly as he walked up the lane towards Hogwarts. It was a long time since he'd been back here, nineteen years in fact. He still remembered it so very clearly, and he felt his stomach twist into knots. This made it all seem so much sharper – the mistakes he'd made and continued to make, the lies he'd told and the mess he'd played a part in creating. No matter how many times he heard their words, no one could ever make him feel as bad about the war as he did himself. 

Though his luggage had gone on ahead, Draco had declined the carriages in favour of walking to the school. In the soft evening light, the school was beautiful. Potter had been the main figurehead involved in rebuilding the school, and it had been a successful project under his leadership. 

Running his fingers up his chest, Draco ensured that the love bite from last night's whore was properly covered. The man last night had been good, but not what he was looking for. The sad thing was, he wasn't entirely sure what it was that he _was_ looking for. He liked brunettes, that much he knew. And he was a firm bottom. But beyond those two facts Draco was at a loss. 

The gentle ache in his arse as he walked thrust his mind back to the night before. A prick long enough to tickle over his prostate, but not hammer it should he need that, and thick enough to make its presence known, had been attached to an attractive "escort." That was another thing that bugged him – to listen to Pansy talk, it sounded like Blaise had a Van Gogh painting in his boxers, but Draco just found cocks…not ugly, but definitely not things of great beauty. He guessed that finding a cock breathtaking was something that came with the _whole package_. 

Because, deep down inside, that was what Draco suspected he was looking for. Someone to love and trust. And he was searching for that someone with his galleons and a few shady contacts. 

Scoffing at himself, Draco thrust his hands into his pockets and picked up his pace. The sad truth was, whores were paid not to judge him. Everyone else had their opinion of him, and for the most part those opinions weren't so good. But he had a handful of friends he could rely on, and he'd survived the war in one piece, with his parents both alive, thanks in no small part to Harry Potter.

As he lifted his head up, preparing to go into deeper thought about Harry, he saw Pansy stood by the gates. Speeding up, he ran the last few metres and pulled her into a fierce hug. "Hey you!"

Smiling, Pansy pressed a kiss to Draco's cheek and squeezed him affectionately. "Hey yourself. I'm so glad you're here! Blaise is already inside."

"Were you waiting for me?"

Pulling back, Pansy shook her head softly. "No, I was waiting to see if this letter was all a dream."

Taking the parchment from her hands, Draco smoothed it out and read the surprisingly short missive.

 

_Parkinson,_

_I have been offered a job teaching at Beaubaxtons. The pay is_  
substantially better, and it gets me out of this godforsaken   
country. 

_Sorry for the short notice,_

_Ginny Weasley._

 

"The Weaslette was going to teach here?"

"Yeah, _was_ being the operative word. Damnit all to hell! The little bitch. I knew hiring her was a stupid idea. I'll have to cover the classes myself until I can find someone else."

Patting Pansy on the shoulder, Draco waited while she cast one more glance at the empty road before resigning herself to defeat and turned back to walk through the gates. "What was she going to teach?"

"Muggle Studies. I should have forced McGonagall to keep this job. I can understand why Dumbledore was so batty, this job drives you insane!"

They laughed, and Draco felt some of his tension ease. Maybe coming back to Hogwarts wasn't such a bad idea. After all, Pansy and Blaise both worked here, and McGonagall had always been pleasant to him when they bumped into each other. Plus, it took him away from the temptation of meaningless sex with sub-par men.

"So, I saw your cover shoot."

"Don't say a word."

"All right, all right. But you'll come up to my office tonight for a drink and to catch up? Me and Blaise have both missed you."

"Of course I will. Now come on, your first Welcome feast as Headmistress is awaiting you."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The announcement that he was to teach Potions, and that he was to have a teaching assistant, went down with little incident. Draco shot a reassuring smile at Ted, who looked a little overwhelmed being on this side of the top table. Leaning slightly towards him, Draco spoke softly. "I have to meet with the Headmistress tonight, but if you'd care to join me for a drink at nine in my office, we can talk a little about what you are expecting from this year?"

Looking relieved, Ted nodded and reached quickly for the peas, knocking his goblet over in the process.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stretching and draining his goblet, Draco stood up and smiled softly at Pansy and Blaise. "I have to go and talk with Ted about how we're going to work and things. But over the weekend we'll catch up more, okay?"

Murmurs of assent and goodnight followed him out of the door, and Draco allowed a soft smile to curve his lips. With Pansy taking the Muggle Studies position eight years ago, and Blaise taking the Arithmancy position the year after, he hadn't seen much of his friends over recent years. Though none of them had redeemed themselves in the Final Battle, they'd begun to do so afterwards. Slowly but surely, the Slytherins had begun to claw back respect, finally earning it in the right ways. 

Draco had gone to Kathmandu, studying under Nepal's finest Potions Master. He'd taught there for a while, but had soon become homesick. Returning to England, Draco had found work at the famous Leviathan Apothecary in Diagon Alley, soon making a name for himself in the European brewing circles. When Alicia Spinnet's husband had been offered a job in Visalia, and she'd left her position of Potions Professor at Hogwarts to go with him, Draco had been surprised and honoured to be offered the job. The only catch was that he would have to take on a Teaching Assistant who might be interested in becoming a Mastery student. 

That scared him more than the thought of teaching children – being responsible for a Mastery student was a heady task. Taking a deep breath, he turned the corner and smiled at Ted as the young man leant against the wall outside his classroom. "Professor Malfoy."

"None of that. It's Draco."

Smiling, Ted nodded and followed Draco into his office. They walked through, into the private rooms at the back, and Ted sat in the comfy chair by the fire as Draco poured two brandies and moved to the chair opposite, levitating one glass over to Ted. They talked for most of the evening about classes and Ted's own study. When they'd ironed out most of the details, Draco refilled their glasses and leant back in his chair. "As my workload will be lessened by you, Headmistress Parkinson has arranged for us to supply the Sanctuary with a variety of potions, most notably Wolfsbane. I assume you know how to brew it?"

"Harry taught me."

"That's a no then."

Smiling, Ted took a sip of his drink. "Harry said that you never really understood his method of potion making."

"Harry said that?"

Nodding, Ted straightened up and looked at Draco, gauging his reaction carefully. "He did tell me about what happened. I know that you and I are…our family trees collide."

"A diplomatic way of saying our blood ties us but our souls do not."

Ted felt a slight flush creep up his cheeks, and tipped his head in acceptance of the point. "I…I've been wondering if…will…"

Recognising the stammered question, as he'd been thinking it himself, Draco took a chance and let his mouth speak without his brain's intervention, knowing that what came out would be the truth. "The first time you and I met was tonight. Many people learned the hard way that basing opinions on past events they weren't a part of would end in tears. I have no need of learning that lesson again. My opinion of you will be based on how you prove yourself in my classroom and in my lab. Sound fair?"

Nodding, Ted glanced at the clock and swore softly, "It's gone two, I should probably go." Standing up, he tripped over the rug and the cloak stand as he tossed a goodnight over his shoulder and left the room. Draco smiled – the boy was lucky to have inherited clumsiness off his mother in place of lycanthropy off his father – and extinguished the fire. Heading through the door that led to his bedroom, Draco unpacked his belongings with a swish of his wand and fell onto the comfy bed. Maybe, just maybe, Hogwarts could become home once more.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry smiled as Molly put another plate of cookies on the table. The Healers all agreed that the strain of the war had befuddled her brain. Some days she was all right, but some days she was different…not herself. Some days she was the woman that screamed _'Bitch!'_ at Bellatrix Lestrange and shot an Avada Kedavra curse from her wand. 

And some days she was just plain odd. 

The cookies were, in themselves, perfectly sane. However, the sheer number of them hinted that Molly was slightly more off-kilter than normal. Harry took one anyway, and bit into it, humming in contentment as the warm sweetness exploded in his mouth. As time passed, her episodes of inexplicable out-of-characterness got more infrequent, but Ginny's shocking departure to France had shaken Molly up. 

Harry rolled his eyes and snagged another cookie. Ginny was an odd one – going from pleading for their relationship to restart to completely ignoring him. He suspected that finding him in a compromising position with Charlie had been what swung it. Still, at least she hadn't said anything to anyone – he liked that only his close friends and family knew his orientation.

His musings were disturbed by a knock on the door to The Burrow, and Harry wondered who would be calling so late. Standing up, he crossed to the door and opened it, staring in shock at the smiling face of Pansy Parkinson. "Uh…Merlin…Hi, Pansy! How'd you…" 

"Apparated to the point closest to your magical signature. I was wondering if I could have a few words?"

Nodding dumbly, Harry stepped back and let Pansy in. Though her eyes widened slightly at the mounds of cookies on the table, she didn’t comment, instead smiling softly at a beaming Mrs. Weasley and taking a cookie from the offered plate. Sitting down, Harry looked at the woman expectantly. He had no idea what she could want. "How are you?"

"In a spot of bother, actually. You know, I assume, about…" Pansy paused and looked at Molly. She quickly worked out the reason for the obsessive cookie-making and changed direction. "My lacking teaching staff. I need someone to teach Muggle Studies."

"Oh."

"And I know you don't have a job right now, or any idea what you’d like to do."

"I can't teach, I don't know how and…how do you know that?"

Waving her hand dismissively, Pansy scoffed, "It was in the Prophet. Look, Potter, just give it until Christmas. If you hate it, I'll advertise for someone new. Please, Harry…I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate."

Every part of him knew this was a bad idea. He'd be a rubbish teacher, he'd end up wrestling Draco in the corridors or something and… "I'll do it."

Pansy smiled and stood up quickly, evidently desperate to leave before Harry could come to his senses; he guessed his internal shock was displayed on his face. "Fantastic, your first class is at nine tomorrow, but come to the Head's office at seven and I'll walk you through the basics. Bye, Mrs. Weasley."

And then, just like that, Harry was sat in front of a plate of warm cookies again, now a Hogwarts Professor. 

With a very strange urge to wrestle Draco Malfoy in the corridors.


	3. Professor Potter?

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 2728  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story  
 **Author's Notes** \- Are any of you truly surprised?

 

 

 

Harry walked slowly toward the bench, wondering what he was going to say. The ghostly surroundings of Platform Nine and Three Quarters were familiar to him, and he sat down heavily on the bench. Its other occupant huffed and straightened his paper, but Harry ignored that. "How come you're here?"

"The shop sells Sherbet Lemons, and our _esteemed Headmaster_ is busy salivating."

Harry sniggered and nodded his thanks when Severus lowered his paper and shot a disgusted glare at him. "So, what trivial little problem can I help our Hero with tonight?"

"You don't need to be so mean."

Slipping into the tone one would use with an incredibly stupid three year old, Severus folded his paper and angled his body to Harry. "What you knew of me was mean. Why would you change that preconception in your dreams? Now, forcing me to act as your conscience is bad enough, but must you and I have the _'but you can't just be my conscience, I wouldn't be mean to myself'_ conversation every time we meet?" 

"Spoilsport. I still don't buy that this is all a dream."

"And yet you've never once spoken to your parents in these _dreams_. Surely, if we were coming from beyond the grave to infiltrate your dull mind, they would be at the front of the queue? They are not, because you do not know them well enough for your mind to construct a persona for them which can then stop you from doing stupid things."

Momentarily stumped, Harry stared across the platform and spotted Albus tossing sherbet lemons into the air and catching them in his mouth. "Well, I still don't think my mind could form sentences like that."

"The unlocked potential of your mind is apparently greater than that which is on display. Now, what do you want?"

"I'm going to teach at Hogwarts…"

"Merlin help us all…"

"…and I'm just stunned. I've never even thought about wanting to teach, and yet…"

"And yet now you want to, I would assume because Draco Malfoy has caught your attention?"

Falling silent at yet another interruption, Harry sighed and pouted, mainly because he knew it pissed Severus – well, his conscience – off. For long minutes they sat in silence as Harry mulled over his feelings, always so un-obscured in this misty haven. "He's so…intriguing. I don't know…I guess I'm just curious."

"Then satiate your curiosity. Ms. Parkinson asked you to stay until Christmas, and while I envision you burning the school to the ground within six weeks, you have given your word. Now, unless there was anything else?"

His worries soothed, Harry knew that whether he walked out of the station or not, the dream would fade away, and he would wake up exactly twenty-five seconds before his alarm went off…

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Pansy looked at the picture on yesterday's prophet, and wondered if Draco was choosing these men for their faint resemblances to anyone. She'd been hoping for years that he would find someone and settle down. But he never had, and Pansy wondered if he'd ever even lost his virginity. Not sexually, the evidence of that loss had been splattered all over the Prophet on numerous occasions. But the little piece of soul that was given up to someone you loved. She suspected not.

Raising her head at the knock on her door, Pansy slipped the paper into a drawer and opened the door with a flick of her hand. "Harry, you came."

Smiling, Harry crossed the room and dropped his trunk on the floor, leaning across the desk to shake Pansy's offered hand. "I said I would. Just until Christmas though, okay?"

"Of course. Unless you enjoy it?"

Tipping his head in acceptance of the point, Harry sat down and prepared for a crash course in teaching children. The closer nine came, the more panicked Harry got, until finally he jumped up and began pacing, his hands twisting through his hair. "This is ridiculous! I can't teach! I haven't had the slightest inclination to in thirty seven years! I can't just...just overnight become a teacher, it's insane!"

Standing up and holding her hands out soothingly, Pansy spoke in the tone of voice she used to coax scared children and animals out from their hiding places. "Harry, you'll do fine. You were raised with muggles, and the students have a lot of respect for you. Please, Harry, just try. I've done you some lesson plans for the first few weeks, until you find your stride. It'll work out, and there's an entire faculty to help you. Speaking of which…"

As if on cue, the door opened and Ted bounded in, banging into the umbrella stand on his way to pull Harry into a gruff, one-armed hug. "Harry!"

"Hey Teddy, I guess you've heard the news."

"Yeah! Professor Zabini announced it at breakfast, and it was pandemonium! You got a standing ovation!" Ted wasn't sure why, but that statement made Harry go grey. He guessed it had something to do with his godfather's hatred of publicity. Growing up with Harry had been an experience – people smiling and waving wherever they went. When he was young he’d enjoyed it, but when he hit his teens and Harry had started telling him more about the war, Ted began viewing the adoration with a bittersweet tint.

These people cheered Harry for winning a war that had claimed both his parents, but Ted could not truly complain. Harry had raised him in full knowledge of his parents; of the things they had done and the lives they'd saved. He had inherited his mother's clumsiness and Metamorphmagus genes, and his father's quiet dedication and calm temperament. He'd known a large, happy family and had always been supported. And when he'd decided that Potions was the route for him, that support had continued, though he'd spent a lot of time fixing Harry's potions. Which, he supposed, was a learning tool in itself.

Shaking his head to dispel his meandering thoughts, Ted shot Harry a smile that he was told came straight off his mother's face, and gestured to the door. "Come on, Professor Potter, it's time to go to class!" 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry shuffled the papers behind his desk and swallowed around the lump of nerves in his throat. Wizard-Muggle relations were the best they had ever been, but those witches and wizards brought up in Wizarding communities were still woefully ignorant of Muggle ways, and Hogwarts kept up teaching Muggle Studies to ensure there were no pretenders to Voldemort's crown.

Looking up, he was unnerved by the rapt attention in every face as the Gryffindor and Slytherin third years gazed at him. Clearing his throat, Harry sighed internally at the ridiculous situation he'd gotten himself into. It was beyond a joke, and he was already running a private bet on whether or not he'd make it to the end of the week before Pansy fired him. 

Standing up and walking around his desk, he leant back against it and spoke to the attentive pupils, "Uhm…morning."

The chorus that came back was unnerving, yet Harry couldn't hide a small smile; he remembered the sing-song quality that began each lesson. "Morning, Professor Potter."

"Now, as I'm sure Bl~Professor Zabini told you, my appointment as the professor of Muggle Studies was a very quick one, so you'll have to bear with me as I learn the ropes. For today, what I'd like to do is find out how much you all know. So, who _isn't_ Muggle-born?"

About two thirds of the class raised their hands, and Harry nodded, hoping he looked calmer than he felt. "All right then. So that I can structure my lessons, I want you all to list three things that you do not understand about Muggle customs or traditions. Those who _are_ Muggle-born, I'd like you to do the same, but for Wizarding customs. In about twenty minutes, we'll work out what needs to be covered first. Off you go."

Heading back to his chair, Harry sunk into it and let out a long breath. Except for a few curious glances, the students were doing exactly as he asked, some talking quietly with their neighbours as they worked. He was about to put their good behaviour down to his reputation, but then understanding struck him. They were kids, and he was the teacher – they were sounding him out, finding out what kind of teacher he was before they decided on their behaviour. In the classroom, his "Hero" status didn't matter, what mattered was his disciplinarian status.

Which led to the difficult question – what kind of teacher was he? He wanted to be a fair teacher, but he didn't want to lose control of his class and have to explain thirty school children running amok. As always in times of stress, Harry thought _'what would Hermione do?'_ , and found his answer without too much difficulty. He'd have to work towards fair, but firm. As the children worked, he began mentally preparing his next little speech. 

Glancing at the clock, he saw almost half an hour had passed, and cleared his throat. Silence fell, and Harry moved to resume his position in front of the desk, this time sitting up on it and leaning back a little on his hands. Best to start in an approachable manner. "I hope you've all come up with a list, and we'll discuss those in a moment. But first, a few ground rules. You are young adults now, and don't need to be hand-held every step of the way. If I set work, I expect it done. I'm not going to chase you up, but for every day that your work is late, you will lose one house point. If you are having trouble with homework or topics we cover in class, then come and see me. My office hours are seven to nine, Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I'll give you any extra help you need. Beyond that, as long as you do what I ask and show me the respect I will show you, I'm sure that there will be no problems."

He paused to smile at the class, which morphed into his crooked grin when he got some tentative smiles back, and leant off his hands, clapping them together once to bring out the chalkboard. "All right, I need a volunteer to write on the board. "Yes, Miss…?"

"Flint, Sir. Esmeralda Flint."

"Well, Miss Flint, I'd like you to write up a list of the topics we're going to cover. Everyone else, when I ask for your suggestion, can you tell me your name before you give it. Brilliant, you at the front?"

"Conal Clagg, Sir. How do they get about, if they don't have brooms?"

"Cars!"

"And planes, and trains, and…"

Harry hid a grin as he turned to the two identical faces that were yelling out. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, for your help. However, I expect hands up in my classroom before you speak."

Fred shot him a quick grin before nodding, and Oliver beamed. "Sorry, _Professor Potter_. But that is how they get about, Granddad Arthur said so!"

"It is indeed, and you can take two points for Gryffindor for knowing that. Okay Esmeralda, add transport to the list please. Who's next?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry was both surprised and secretly pleased when, at twelve thirty, Ted walked into his classroom with Draco in tow. "Harry! It's the most amazing thing in the world, showing those little first years how to set a cauldron up and…"

Harry's stomach interrupted Ted's sentence, and they both grinned. "Tell me over lunch, Ted? You may enjoy it, but I find it hungry work. How about you, Professor Malfoy?"

"I have taught before, Potter, not jumped blindly into a job without rhyme or reason." 

Harry's smile froze at the words, but when he looked up Draco didn't appear angry, just mildly interested in Harry's shocking decision. Shrugging, Harry straightened up the classroom with a wave of his wand and fell into step with Ted. "When have I ever waited for rhyme or reason?"

He stepped back to allow Draco to pass through the door, wondering if the slight curve of lips at such manners would become a full-blown smile. It didn't, but Harry couldn't stop his mind drifting back to the soft look as Ted gushed over steak and kidney pie and three helpings of treacle tart. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry glanced up at the clock and then down at Fred and Oliver. "All right, hand in your lines and get up to bed, I won't protect you from Filch if you dawdle after curfew. And I don't care that we're family, you do _not_ try to use skiving snackboxes in my classroom. I was there when your Dad was creating them."

The twins looked chastened, and Oliver tried out his luck. "Are you going to tell Mum and Dad?"

"Not this time. Now shoo, and don't do it again!"

When he could no longer hear their footsteps, Harry slouched back into his chair and closed his eyes. One week in, and he'd already given out detentions to two students. Admittedly, he was surprised that George and Luna's twins had lasted a whole week before they got detentions, but it still felt odd to be handing them out instead of walking slowly towards them.

The whole situation felt odd, and Harry wasn't sure if he liked it yet. Admittedly he got to spend a little time with Ted, and with Neville and Charlie too, but it still felt strange. He only hoped that Pansy found a replacement soon, or he got used to having to stop the trouble, not get away with it.

Pulling a pile of marking to him, he had just reached for his quill when there was a knock at the door, and he glanced up just as Pansy walked in. "Headmistress, what can I do for you?"

"Less of that, Potter, it's just Pansy when the brats are in bed."

"Then I'll be just Harry."

Smiling, Pansy tipped her head in recognition and leant on the open door. "Staff meetings are Monday morning at seven, and the Saturday detention list is up. You're supervising with Draco, if that's all right?"

"Yeah, sure. What time, and where?"

"Seven, in the same classroom you spent most of your Saturday evenings in. Night, Harry."

His laughter followed her down the hall, and Pansy felt a plot brewing. It was a long shot – for all she knew they still hated each other. But it was a shot nevertheless, and Pansy began working out the pros and cons of taking it. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco knew that he had to be more careful now; he was a teacher at Hogwarts, and sex scandals in the Prophet could lose him his job. That meant no more whores, and Hogwarts wasn't exactly teeming with possible lovers. There was a pretty Ravenclaw seventh year, but Draco wouldn't cross that line. Professor Flitwick had been very nice to him this first week, but that was another line he wouldn’t cross.

Sighing, Draco put down his book and resigned himself to fingers and thumbs for the foreseeable future. He headed into the bathroom and flicked on the shower, stripping quickly before he stepped under the spray. Soaping up his hair and body quickly, Draco just stood and allowed the pounding water to wash away the suds. It was different teaching at Hogwarts than it had been teaching abroad. He could still remember being on the other side of the desks, still remember the things he'd done and the mistakes he'd made while he was a student here.

As always, thinking of his schooldays brought his thoughts to the Final Battle, and Draco played it over in his mind again. The existence of the Deathly Hallows, his own unknowing ownership of one for months, Potter dying and then un-dying…even nearly two decades down the line, Draco still didn't fully understand what had happened. What he did know was that Harry had saved his life twice, and Draco had never even thanked him.

There was something about the brunette, some quality that Draco couldn't pin down but wanted to explore anyway. Something that inexplicably called to Draco and made him wonder if the two of them could be something more than old enemies, maybe even friends…


	4. Wrestling In The Corridors

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 1526  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story  
 **Author's Notes** \- Are any of you truly surprised?

 

*facepalms* So, I had this all formatted and set out, clicked on 'preview' and just...forgot to click on 'add story', hence the late posting today. *S*S* xx

 

 

Harry stood in the shower, the steamy water rolling down his body as his mind wandered. For being thirty seven, he still had a nice body; no strange flabby bits or random sproutings of hair. Victoire assured him he looked younger than his years, and that the lines around his eyes and mouth were from laughter. But then she had a vested interest in keeping him sweet, so he took her words with a pinch of salt.

_'I wonder if Draco thinks I look younger than my years?'_

The thought startled Harry, and he cursed as shampoo dribbled into his eye. Tipping his head up to let the water hit his face and soothe his stinging eye, Harry went back to his thoughts. He'd realised soon after Dumbledore's death that Malfoy wasn't at fault, and if he were honest with himself, he could look back now and see a boy who was simply trying to please his parents, to live up to the expectations placed on him. 

Though they hadn't been friends by any stretch of the imagination, they'd always swapped polite greetings when they bumped into each other, which hadn't been that often. So Harry didn't really understand the sudden interest in Draco Malfoy, or how he could be simultaneously interested in him and yet still think he was an arrogant prick at times. 

The area where he was the biggest prick was definitely – still, Harry thought wryly – school. Draco seemed disbelieving that Harry was truly teaching at Hogwarts, and though a small voice in the back of his head pointed out that Harry didn't believe it either, and that he and Draco were unerringly asking the same question when no one else would, Harry was stung by Draco's doubt. Admittedly, he was still finding his feet, and there were still days when he cursed Pansy long and loud. But for the most part Harry liked teaching. Maybe it was the subject; knowledge of Muggle customs made it much easier to explain them in a way the students could understand.

But Draco remained unconvinced, getting in sly little barbs and digs whenever he got the chance. Harry was reminded forcefully of Severus, and wondered if maybe the Potions classroom was cursed, turning all teachers who worked in it into sarcastic, bad-tempered bastards with snapping robes.

"Mmmm…"

Somehow, the process of thinking about Draco (and Snape a bit too, but Harry **really** didn't want to dwell on that) had convinced his hand to glide down his body and wrap around his cock. And no matter how hard he tried to picture this month's _Playwizard_ centrefold, as his hand worked his mind never strayed far from thoughts of the blonde…

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Nice hair, Sir!"

Teddy grinned at the third years, screwing up his face to add electric blue streaks to his turquoise hair, grinning wider as they laughed and gasped. He bumped into Harry in the Entrance Hall, getting a crooked grin from his Godfather, the man who had raised him along with his grandmother. "Morning, Harry."

"Teddy boy. You supporting Ravenclaw in today's match, or are you heading down to Hogsmeade to meet up with the lovely Victoire?"

Blushing, Teddy chose not to answer that question, instead honing in on Harry's faulty information. "It's Gryffindor playing Slytherin now – half of Ravenclaw have come down with flu. Did you not know?"

"No! When did that happen?"

"Well, I ran into Professor Flitwick on my way here, and he told me. So maybe it only happened late last night, while you were holed up in Professor Malfoy's rooms…"

Harry coughed, damning the blush that raced up his cheeks. He'd only gone to find out what the twins had done to get three nights of detention with Draco; they'd been adamant it was unwarranted. So, maybe he'd loitered around until it became blatantly obvious Draco wasn't going to ask if he wanted a drink ( _'Or jump you'_ , the annoying voice added). "You know full well I was there on school matters."

Ted shrugged, ducking the hand that came up to swipe him round the head. "Whatever you say, Professor Potter."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lee Jordan's daughter had inherited his quick wit, scathing tongue, and ability to duck McGonagall's attempts to commandeer the microphone.

"And that was a disgusting foul by Autumn Rogers, apparently having perfect curls means it's okay to shove your opponents off their brooms!"

"Kianna Jordan!"

"Sorry, Professor! You're right, those curls are rank!"

Harry sniggered, watching Lee and Angelina's fourteen year old hellion duck McGonagall's attempt to de-mike her again. But his attention was soon drawn back to the game, and Harry eschewed Professor-partiality to jump up and yell cheers when Gryffindor scored again. He could see Draco out of the corner of his eye, and turned to grin at the scowling blonde. "Remind you of school, Malfoy?"

"Fuck right off, Potter."

Harry would have responded, but he'd just spotted the Snitch. Turning round, he was impressed to see the Gryffindor Seeker streaking towards it. The Seeker, Adrian Rawlins, was incredibly good, and he was almost on top of the Snitch when two Bludgers came barrelling towards him, and he had to swerve to avoid losing his head. In the cries of foul play, the Snitch was lost, and Harry felt a familiar burning rivalry rise inside him at the smug, satisfied look on Draco's face.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry grinned as he headed back to his rooms – Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin 420:260 and he hoped Teddy would be back so they could celebrate. He turned around in the Entrance Hall, having been trying to head up to the Gryffindor common rooms and not his private rooms, and almost walked into Draco. "Malfoy. Enjoy the game?"

"Fuck off."

Draco snapped past him, and Harry felt like he'd been punched. The students in the vicinity seemed oblivious to the altercation, but Harry was not going to let that lie. Giving chase, he caught up with Draco, resting his hand on the blonde's shoulder and spinning him around. "You always were a shitty loser!"

"And you always were a gloating bastard!"

"How does a friendly enquiry equate gloating? You're such a prick sometimes!"

Draco lost his temper. Drawing his fist back, he wasn't a teacher anymore. He wasn't even an adult. He was a fourteen year old boy faced with the one person who always beat him without even trying.

And then he was a man with blood on his fist and an irate Gryffindor lunging at him. Draco grunted as a fist connected with his jaw, and then it was a free-for-all. The force of Harry's lunge had knocked them backwards, and Draco only just managed to twist out of the way and avoid Harry landing on top of him. He hit his side hard on the stone floor but ignored the flare of pain in favour of flipping onto Harry and thumping the brunette again. 

Harry growled and focused all his strength on flinging Draco off him, pinning the blonde beneath him and drawing his fist back. Goddamn, but the blonde was infuriating, and Harry pushed his fist forwards, but was yanked backwards by an invisible force.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?"

Suddenly, Draco was a teacher again. A teacher looking up through a swollen eye at his irate Headmistress and half the school population.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Pansy was so angry she couldn't see straight, the only things she could see were the two men sat in front of her desk. "How dare…how could…" taking a deep breath, Pansy began again, "What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

"He called me…"

"He started…"

Losing her temper, Pansy brought her hand crashing down, transfiguring thin air into a long wooden ruler that smacked into the desk like a gunshot, startling both men into silence. Still holding the wood, and not entirely sure she wouldn’t be bringing it down on a softer target in the near future, Pansy spoke in a low hiss that positively _dared_ either one of them to question or interrupt her. "You are adults. You are teachers. You do not _wrestle_ in the _corridors_ in front of the _whole school_. I assumed that I could safely hire both of you because you were both over your stupid childhood rivalry. Evidently I was mistaken! You will be in the detention room at seven tonight, and you will be there at seven every night until you either sort this out and ensure this afternoon _never_ gets a repeat performance, or until you have decided which of you will be handing in your notice."

"You're putting us in detention? We're not eight!"

Draco regretted the words immediately, cowering back in his chair at the look Pansy gave him. He briefly thought she'd developed the ability to speak Parseltongue; her voice was naught more than a dangerous hiss, but then his brain caught up to her words. 

"Then _prove_ it!"

Neither daring to complain or question her, Harry and Draco didn't even dare scowl at each other as they were dismissed with a flick of Pansy's hand, scurrying away before she could change her mind and kill them both.


	5. Detention

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 1713  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted herein are above the age of consent.  
 **Author's Notes** \- Are any of you truly surprised?

 

 

 

Harry couldn't believe that he was, at the ripe old age of thirty-seven, walking the halls of Hogwarts, heading to a detention. It was unfair – he'd been provoked! Bloody Malfoy, always such a sore loser, always such a drama queen, always so physical…

Harry grimaced, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Almost involuntarily, his mind slipped back to that afternoon, to slamming into his bedroom so angry he couldn't see straight. To standing under the scalding spray and cursing Draco Malfoy blind. To the anger – it was the anger, nothing else – building up, needing to be released. 

A mewl escaped Harry's lips as he remembered his cock, so desperately hard. His hand, rough and careless as it had jerked up and down, shower gel smoothing the way. His mind, full of thoughts of Draco, of lying on top of the blonde as they struggled. His knees had buckled, bringing him crashing to the shower floor as his hand held onto his softening prick. Little white spots had danced in front of his eyes as he panted for breath, unable to separate the lust from the anger. 

Harry stopped, his breathing heavy as he leant against the wall. It wouldn't do to enter his detention riled and angry; he needed to calm down. Where Draco Malfoy was concerned, Harry knew that his feelings were anything but simple. Swallowing down on the rising passion, he shook his head as if to clear it of water, and carried on walking to the detention classroom. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco drummed his fingers on the desk, his psyche torn between that of his thirty- seven year old self and that of his sixteen year old self. He couldn't understand why he'd reacted so badly; Potter had always been a gloating winner, thinking he was showing friendly play, but only serving to highlight his own attributes as compared to Draco's short-comings. 

 

But that didn't justify launching an attack on Potter in the corridors, in full view of their students, writhing around on the floor with him…

A flush began to try and claim Draco's cheeks, but he fought it back. After escaping Pansy's ire, Draco had fled to his rooms, sinking into the tub and wondering if he could drown himself in the sweet liquid. Fighting with Potter had left him tense, and as all but one of his muscles had loosened, the _but one_ had begun to stiffen. Potter…strong, muscular, heavy Potter on top of him, nestled in the crux of his thighs. Potter's face, Potter's voice, Potter's tan hands wrapped around his prick.

Draco wouldn't have been able to stop it if he'd tried, but what worried him was that he didn't try. Instead, he just groaned, the lapping water so sensual against his exposed head, his fingers soft and curled as they moved up and down. His lip bruised for hours where he'd bit it to try and stop himself calling out. But it hadn't worked, and he'd whimpered Potter's name as he spilled his seed into the water.

Shaking his head, Draco pushed the image to the back of his mind. He couldn't figure Potter out, and now was not the time to try again. The confusing mass of feelings, still fundamentally the same emotions as when they'd passed through these walls as students, but with the added burden of lust and desire, was too much to be untangled right now… or ever, he feared. 

He heard the door open and kept his head lowered, staying perfectly still as Harry flung himself into a seat at the next desk. It amazed Draco that the brunette could have raised a child and yet still be so childish himself. But he bit back on the comment, not wanting Pansy to walk in on them wrestling again. The woman might actually kill him.

"I'm glad you're both on time."

Pansy stalked in, her heels clicking on the stone flags and the wooden ruler she'd transfigured in anger swinging by her side threateningly. She moved up to the desk and sat down, sending a sheet of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink soaring through the air to land in front of her two teachers with a flick of her wand. She met two equally incredulous gazes and raised her eyebrow, "Problem, gentlemen?"

"No, Headmistress."

"No, Ma'am."

She nodded sharply and sat down, eyeing both of them as she rested her elbows on the desk top and folded her fingers together to rest her chin on. "Never, in all my years of teaching, have I witnessed anything that even comes close to matching your performance in terms of sheer stupidity and lack of professionalism. I am ashamed to call you my staff, and I am ashamed to call you my friends. I will not tolerate a similar display, do you both understand me?"

Both men nodded and Pansy cleared her throat. "You are going to do one hour's worth of lines and then the two of you are going to sort this out. I was under the impression that, if you could not become friends, you could at least be civil to each other. I do not like being wrong. So you two either work out a way to work together, and preferably work out that the two of you could be good friends if you actually saw past your juvenile prejudices. Or one of you hands in your notice. Is your punishment clear?"

Again, they both nodded, and Pansy sighed softly. Bloody idiot men; all that testosterone and passion should have been hint enough that the two of them were compatible as more than just colleagues…hell, as more than just friends. But as usual, they were missing what was right in front of them, and Pansy briefly wondered how either of them had managed to bumble this far through life. "Your lines are on the board."

With a flick of her wand, the lines appeared, and she hid a smirk at the outraged gasps she knew neither man would follow up on.

_Draco  
I will not let the misguided superiority complex of my youth affect me in professional situations, and I will not physically attack Harry in the corridors, however tempting that may be._

_Harry  
I may have defeated a Dark Lord, but that does not mean I am above reproach. I should have learnt by now that Draco can be tetchy when it comes to Quidditch. I may be a Gryffindor, but I will not resort to brute force when a scathing comment will suffice._

Pansy eyed both men, making it plainly clear what the consequence would be if they disobeyed her. She smirked when both lowered their heads to their parchment, and began to write.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry stared down at his parchment, writing the words automatically while he thought about what he was going to say to Draco. His school career had made it remarkably easy for him to write lines while he thought about something else, but normally the subject of the lines and the subject of his thoughts were far removed from each other. Tonight, however, they were tied up together, and Harry could feel a fluttering of worry in his stomach. 

The reactions Draco Malfoy produced were extreme, and they moved between extremes. Harry didn’t know how to explain that always, ever since he was eleven, Draco had been in or very close to his thoughts in some way, shape, or form. But to say that out loud would sound hopelessly obsessed or painfully clichéd. 

He snapped away from his thoughts when Pansy spoke. 

"Right, your hour is up. Now you work out a way to exist in the same castle as each other. I expect an answer on my desk by the close of teaching tomorrow."

She summoned their parchments and stormed out, leaving Draco and Harry sat in uncomfortable silence. Harry slid off his stool and turned to face Draco, intending to speak but never managing to get the words out. He watched in rapt attention as Draco's body – encased in well-cut charcoal grey trousers and a tight black polo neck – slid fluidly off his stool, and the blonde reached up to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. 

In his defence, Harry really didn't have a choice. There was no conscious decision, no palpable desire. Without warning, coercion, or volition, Harry stepped forward and kissed Draco softly.

When the brunette pulled back, stunned did not even cover Draco's emotions. That had been… unexpected, to say the least. He felt hazy as he looked up at Harry. "What was that for?"

"Well, we fight all the time and I just thought…"

With Harry's response, the haze cleared, sharpening to a blinding rage that he'd almost slipped into thinking Potter was a decent human being. "You just thought what? That we could have…we could have anger-sex or something? Are you completely insane?"

As Draco stormed towards the door, Harry's head dropped and he spoke to the floor. "I just thought it might be nice to do something other than fight."

Draco stopped at the door, needing a few seconds to process the softly-spoken words. "Why?"

"Because I'm Harry Potter. Because I waltz into situations badly prepared and without thinking them through. Because I act first and think about the consequences years later. Because…I don't know why, Draco. But since I was eleven, you've always been around. And we've run through every other emotion, and I still have no answers to my own whys. I don't know why I can't get you out of my head. It isn't because I hate you, because I don't. It isn't because I want to fuck you, because I don't…at least, not any time soon. It isn't because I despise you or think you're an arrogant bastard or think you're going to become your father. It isn’t because I think you're a Death Eater, and it isn’t because I know you were conned into all that. It _definitely_ isn’t because of your charming personality or pleasant demeanour, and it isn't because you have nice hair. I don't know why you're never far from my thoughts, and I guess that some screwed up attraction was my last shot."

Draco processed the words before shaking his head and closing the door.


	6. An Answer

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 1596  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted herein are above the age of consent.  
 **Author's Notes** \- Are any of you truly surprised?

I'm sorry it's taking me so long to respond to reviews. I truly cherish each one, and will be responding when I get in from work tonight. *hugs you all*

 

 

Harry heard the door close and sighed softly. So much for honesty, and now he'd have to hand in his notice, because there was no way he could stay at Hogwarts now. He almost wished he’d spoken to Draco and not the floor; then he'd have been able to see the blonde's revulsion, and it would have helped with the sense of hopeless loss and despair settling over his soul.

"When a door closes, Potter, it is useful to see which side the closer is on before delving into maudlin thoughts."

Harry's head snapped up so fast he got whiplash, his eyes widening at the sight of Draco leant against the wall. The blonde shot him a soft, uncertain smile and walked back towards Harry, sliding up gracefully to sit on the desk. Harry mirrored his actions, leaving them facing each other. He had said his piece, now it was Draco's turn to speak.

Draco recognised the look of set determination that Harry wore when he was being stubborn, and smiled again. "How did you manage to raise a child when you're so damn childish yourself?"

Harry's first reaction was to bristle at the barb, but he bit back on that and smiled softly. "Well, I only had Teddy sometimes. He lived with Andromeda – Tonks' mum – and I lived nearby. So I was always around, but Andromeda did most of it. I took a bigger role when Teddy got older and needed a male presence."

"Oh. Sorry, I assumed…"

"It's all right. I was going to bring him up, but I was so screwed up after the war. It took so long just to get my head straight again, and Teddy needed a stable life. Andromeda was always really good about letting me see Teddy and be a part of his life. Considering…well, with all that happened."

Harry fell silent, and Draco tried to see past the closed body language so that he could choose his words carefully. "You still carry that guilt with you?"

"I carry it for all of them."

Silence fell, and Draco tried to organise his thoughts into some kind of order. He didn't want to confuse either of them, but it was all so confusing. "I… I don't know. I know what I want, but I don't know that you're it. I don't know if I'm looking to you because you've always been a factor in my life, and this is just easiest. I seem to stumble from one mistake to the next, and I'm not going to do that anymore. I don't want to… have _something_ with you just because it's the easiest thing to do, just because it fits into expectations and Pansy's clichéd view of the world."

"Pansy wants us together?"

Harry sounded genuinely surprised, and Draco nodded. "Yep, she thinks all this arguing is a sure sign of unresolved sexual tension…" a flush crept up Harry's cheeks and Draco grinned predatorily "…but you just said you don’t want to fuck me, so she'll be disappointed…"

"I didn't say that! Just…not now."

Raising an eyebrow, Draco was pleased when Harry laughed and shook his head softly, breaking the last of the tension in the room. "So, why is it that you let Pansy talk to you like that? I mean, I've been under her thumb for decades, but you? I thought you'd lose your temper for sure at the lines! And I didn't realise you were close enough to her to do her favours?"

Rolling his shoulders in a careless shrug, Harry blew out and ruffled his fringe. "I don't know why I'm here teaching. I just… sort of… couldn't say no. Hermione does the same thing, has me agreeing to sign my soul away without really understanding what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. I think it's because they both spent so much time with boys growing up; they've learnt how to manipulate us. As to taking her snark… you'd think I'm mad."

"I already think you're mad. So come on – what's the reason?"

Harry felt his lingering blush deepen a few shades and wondered if he could get out of admitting this. But when he looked up and saw the attentive expression on Draco's face, he knew he was going to tell the truth. Perhaps, once he was done laughing, Draco would see the admission for what it was – an olive branch of trust. "She reminds me of Severus. He… I dream about him. Of the things he'd say if he could see my life now. Ultimately, Severus saw me right. It's the same thing with Pansy, this sense that she'll make sure I'm okay, but just be really bitchy getting there."

"You dream of Severus?"

The deadpan incredulity in Draco's voice set Harry off, and he clutched his waist as he laughed. When they both finally calmed down Draco ran a hand through his hair, still chuckling softly. "While I don't dream about him… I sometimes hear Severus commenting on my life. Almost always when I've done something stupid…"

"…or reckless. Yeah, that's when I get him too. Weird, huh?"

Though silence fell again, it was no longer uncomfortable, merely pensive. Finally, Draco stood up, waiting as Harry did the same before looking up to meet shining green eyes. "I… you and me are all about misguided perceptions. I'd like to… to learn more about you. I don't just want to satisfy Pansy's depraved mind. Let's try at being friends first."

Harry nodded and stuck his hand out, pleased when Draco shook it without pause. "We can tell Pansy tomorrow, then, that we've found a way to live together."

Harry nodded, wondering if Draco's mind had gone to quite the same interpretation his own had. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry rolled his eyes as he walked towards the bench, Severus studiously ignoring him until Harry had sat down and cleared his throat. "Hello, Severus."

"Whatever you have to whine about, I assure you I do not care."

Harry laughed and stretched his legs out in front of him, enjoying the cool air in the station while he waited for his mind to clarify things for him. Finally, as he'd known he would, Severus spoke. "It won't be easy. Draco is an annoying little brat at the best of times. And you aren't exactly famed for your patience."

"I know it won't be easy, I don't expect it to be."

"And Draco won't fall for any of your clichéd, romantic fodder. Materialism expects ingenuity."

"I know he won't, and I know it does."

"And if you hurt him, Harry, it will be irrevocable."

The gravity of the statement, of Severus using his first name, was not lost on Harry. He'd known since he first walked into the station that his subconscious had brought him here for a reason. Nodding, Harry stood up. "I won't hurt him. I'd better go and say hello to Albus."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Harry woke up on Monday morning it was to a sense of determination. He knew in some strange, inexplicable way, that he and Draco would never be just friends. So while they were getting to know each other, Harry intended to court the blonde too. First, however, he had to survive his classes for the day. If courting Draco went well then maybe Harry would be staying to teach beyond Christmas.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Teddy walked straight into Harry on his way to the Great Hall, grinning at his Godfather. "Wotcher, Harry. Beaten anyone up this morning?"

"He did not beat me up. It ended on equal grounds."

Harry scoffed, and Teddy shot a grin at Draco. "Morning, Draco. So Harry really didn't stuff you into a suit of armour?"

"No, he did not! Where did you hear that?"

Laughing, Teddy rolled his shoulder easily, focusing on his hair for a minute and restoring it to its natural – well, natural for him – turquoise. "Gryffindors. Though if you listen to the Slytherins, Harry had to spend the night in the Infirmary re-growing all the bones you broke."

Draco laughed and Harry shook his head, slinging his arm around Teddy's shoulders. "Less of the teasing us, Imp, and more of explaining why you're covered in morning dew and why you didn't surface all weekend."

"Oooh, good point, Professor Potter! Just where have you been, Mr. Lupin?"

Blushing, Teddy ducked out from under Harry's arm and flipped his finger at the two older wizards. "Screw you both. You're both just jealous."

Draco laughed, shaking his head as Harry and Teddy carried on sniping at each other all the way down to breakfast. He was almost at the Head Table when he realised he'd just walked, smiling like a loon, into breakfast with Harry. He didn't need to look to know Pansy's face was coloured smug. Sitting down next to her, he focused on his eggs as she leant over and asked, in a conversational tone, "So, you and Harry can bear to work together I take it?"

"Yes, and shut up."

"I didn't say a word."

Draco would have muttered something about irritating know-it-all women, but thought that sentiment was best kept to himself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

As his last class of the morning filed out, Harry looked down at his parchment. He had just enough time, if he skipped lunch, to nip into Hogsmeade and get what he needed. But first he needed to pen an invitation to Draco, asking the blonde to spend his evening marking in Harry's room. 

Though, with any luck, they wouldn't be doing much marking. At least, not of the quill and ink variety.


	7. Marking

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 1959  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.  
 **Author's Notes** \- Are any of you truly surprised?

 

 

Draco looked up at the tapping on the window and smiled as he recognised the pretty phoenix that Harry had adopted after the war. Standing up, he quelled his class' interest with a stern look, waiting until they were working on their potions again before he opened the window and smiled at the beautiful bird. "Hello, Tig, I'd let you in but they're making potions." 

The phoenix tipped her head to the side, then held out her leg and waited while Draco took the letter attached. He unfurled the parchment and smiled at the short note asking if he'd like to do his marking with Harry tonight. Knowing that Teddy would be spending time with Victoire, Draco quickly penned an acceptance and gave Tig a quick stroke before she flew off, his response clutched tightly in her beak. Shaking his head, he wiped the smile from his face before he spun back around to face the class, his robes snapping around his ankles. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

As he sank into the bath, Draco's hand moved immediately to stroke over his chest, moving gradually lower until he was raking his fingers through his pubic hair. Leaning back against the edge of the bath – a cushioning charm protecting his delicate skin – Draco began to manipulate the erection that had been threatening him all day. Finally free of the prying eyes of his students and his bitchy boss, Draco was free to let his body react, to enjoy the sensation of silken skin hardening in his hand. 

Twisting around, sloshing water over the edge as he moved in the bath, Draco found a good position to both stroke his erection and satisfy the clenching hunger in his arse. It had been six weeks since he’d last had sex, since he’d last felt someone sliding inside him. And though his fingers felt good, flexing against tight muscle and flickering over his sweet spot, it wasn't enough. He wanted something harder, something bigger. Something attached to one Harry Potter. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

When he heard Harry yell _'Come in'_ Draco twisted the door handle, careful to snick the door shut behind him. He turned to face Harry, his marking under his arm, and smiled softly. "I doubt a blanket on the floor is the best place to mark essays, Professor Potter."

Smiling, seeing it for the light tease it was and not an attack, Harry cocked his head to the side and smiled at Draco. "Well, Professor Malfoy, I thought we could start the evening on a civil note before we move onto the barbarianism sure to be present in these essays."  
Smiling, Draco dropped his stack of parchment on the table and dropped gracefully to the floor, to sit next to Harry on the red and white checked picnic blanket. "You sound almost like Severus."

"I know, it's freaky."

"So, a picnic?"

Nodding, Harry pulled the stopper out of the chardonnay and poured them both a glass of the chilled white wine. "Well, it's a bit cold to go outside. I just thought it would be nice."

Taking his wine, Draco took a sip before replying, "It is, very nice. You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

Harry shrugged and gestured to the platters of food. "It's only fruits and cheeses, some cold meats. Nothing extravagant."

"It's the nicest thing I've had done for me in a long time."

Flushing a little at the high praise, Harry rolled his shoulder nervously. "Then let's enjoy it."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

They ate and talked in an easy manner, discovering things about each other's lives that they had never known. The conversation stayed away from the big things, from the things they had needed to do to survive in order to get to where they were, but neither man minded. They both knew, as surely as they knew that they were living and breathing, that those things would come later. They found a mutual bonding ground over their love of keeping old brooms, and Draco was surprised that Harry still had all the pieces of his Nimbus 2000. "I don't keep the destroyed ones – my 2001 got split in half and I binned it."

"That was a good broom. I was so jealous."

Draco looked up from the plate of cakes he'd been eyeing and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "You were jealous of my broom?"

Mentally kicking himself for speaking without thinking, Harry debated whether or not to stay true to his 'be honest' policy with Draco. He decided that starting out with lies would not end well, and shrugged shortly. "No, that you had someone to buy your broom for you. You were always getting packages, sweets and letters…"

"I was spoiled."

"You were loved."

Sighing, Draco ran his hand through his hair. "I was a prick."

"Yeah, you were. So was I. But when it came down to it, you did the right thing. So did your parents. I was just as quick to condemn you and your parents as you were to condemn me and my friends."

His interest piqued, Draco approached the most painful memory he had, and spoke in a low voice. "You know… I mean, what I did…"

"I was there. It's a long story, but I will tell you one day. I was there though, and I know you wouldn’t have done it."

As Draco fell silent, Harry felt the need to tell him something, to bring the blonde back in with a promise or a secret. He could see the guilt running behind grey eyes, and cast around for something good. "You know the bouquets of roses that show up for your mother every anniversary?"

"Yeah?"

"They're from me. She saved my life that night."

Smiling slightly, Draco looked up and nodded at Harry. "I figured they were. She told me that she lied about you being dead."

"Because she wanted to get into the castle to find you."

That brought Draco up short, and he felt a flush of warmth through his chest. "I didn't know that."

Nodding, Harry picked up the bottle and split the remainder between their two glasses. Clinking the rims, he raised the glass to his lips and drained it, feeling the warm, slightly fuzzy feeling that always accompanied wine. He wondered if Draco was feeling the effects, and as he leant forward to ask, he noticed how good Draco looked in the firelight. Letting his empty glass fall to the floor, Harry reached his hand to cup Draco's cheek, wondering if his own eyes were burning like Draco's. Unable to break their gaze, unable to breathe or even really think properly, Harry kept leaning forwards until he could feel little puffs of breath on his lips. He waited, needing Draco to close that last gap, to give his consent through his actions. 

Pale eyelashes fluttered against aristocratic cheeks, and Harry let his own eyes fall closed as Draco leant forwards, closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together. For long seconds there was just blissful pressure, then Draco began to kiss him, and Harry kissed back. He parted his lips under the flickering of a warm tongue, meeting it with his own and pulling Draco closer against him.

They shifted around as they kissed, Harry leaning back against the sofa as Draco straddled his lap. As the kiss got more heated Harry got bolder – running his hands up and down Draco's sides and back, stroking the strip of skin that was revealed as the blonde's shirt rode up. He moaned as pale fingers twisted in his hair when he scratched his thumbnail lightly over Draco's skin, and when they broke apart panting, Harry couldn’t stop the goofy grin on his face.

Draco disentangled his hands and ran them down to cup Harry's cheeks. The brunette looked so happy, and Draco was crippled by a pang of doubt. "Harry… you should know… everything in the Prophet, it's all true…"

Moving his fingers to press over Draco's lips, Harry made sure the blonde was looking at him and could see the honesty in his eyes before he responded. "I don't care. Your choices are your own, Draco, and I won't hold you to penance for them. Only reason we aren’t in the same boat is I'm better at keeping the _Daily Prophet_ out of my life – I've had more practice."

"I guess you have… wait, what? Since when was the Golden Boy off gallivanting with rent boys?!"

The look of shocked indignation on Draco's face was comical and Harry couldn’t stop the guffaws of laughter. "Pot… meet kettle."

Realising his hypocrisy, Draco shook his head and laughed softly. "Okay, okay, point. But Merlin, Harry, you kept that quiet."

"I obviously just pay better than you."

Laughing out loud, Draco swatted Harry lightly on the arm and leant back to fix the brunette properly in his gaze. "Why pay for the best when I can play with myself for free?"

The smiling expression immediately morphed into one of lust, and Draco leant forwards quickly, capturing Harry in another kiss, this one filled with more passion and need than the first. Pulling back, Draco blinked a few times and flushed slightly. "I should… it's late."

"Yeah…yeah, it is."

Feeling strangely cold when Draco got off his lap, Harry hauled himself up and gestured vaguely at the pile of parchment. "Sorry you didn’t get any work done."

"Don't be, I'm not. We should… we could do this again, if you like?"

Seeing Draco nervous was a shocking experience, and acted as a sheet of cold water over Harry. He'd assumed that he would be the one nervously asking for more. "We will do it again. There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, if you'd like to get a drink with me?"

Draco had spoken before he could check his petulant tone, "That's two weeks away!"

Laughing, Harry stepped forward and rested his fingers under Draco's chin. "You're welcome to come back tomorrow evening, but I make no promise to let you work and not ravish you on the floor."

Shivering slightly, Draco nodded and swallowed against the lump of arousal in his throat, trying to force it down any way other than the way he truly wanted to soothe it. "Maybe… how about Wednesday, then, in my rooms?"

Nodding, Harry waited until Draco had closed the door behind him before flopping backwards and onto the sofa. His hand moved of its own accord down his body, but was stopped in the most brutal way possible.

"Seeing you groping Malfoy was bad enough, I don't want to watch that!"

"Hermione!"

Stepping out of the fire and brushing herself off, Hermione raised an eyebrow until Harry swung into a sitting position and she could sit next to him. "So, when did a slight infatuation with Malfoy become groping?"

"I… you… have you been talking to Pansy?"

"No, but every guy you date follows the Malfoy pattern. I'm just intelligent. Though Pansy did mention something about you and Draco when I bumped into her last week. Suggested we work together, but I knew you'd make it on your own."

Closing his eyes and dropping his head back against the sofa, Harry exhaled sharply. "Okay. So, what do you want?"

"Wondered if you were free for a meal on Thursday evening?"

Nodding, Harry summoned over two mugs and some coffee. Hermione's hand rested on his arm, "If you're busy I can…"

"Believe me, I am no longer busy. You killed the mood, 'mione, might as well stay and amuse me."

Snickering, Hermione settled onto the sofa, making a mental note to collect her wager with Pansy… her guess at time it would take Harry and Draco to see the obvious had been dead-on accurate.


	8. Wednesday Evening

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 2320  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.  
 **Author's Notes** \- 

 

 

 

Harry felt like he was floating on air – everything seemed brighter, better, more perfect than he could even imagine. As he caught sight of his grinning face in a freshly-polished suit of armour, Harry grimaced. He was sickening. After all the rip he'd given Ron and Hermione just after the war ended about how they were playing love ducks, to be doing the same thing now was sheer hypocrisy. Arranging his face into one more suited to third year Gryffindors and Slytherins, Harry strode into his classroom for the last class of the day. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Pansy rolled her eyes and sighed deliberately, but it had no effect on Draco. She was pleased that the two men had found a way to work together, but a blow-by-blow account of the _precise_ method they were using was just slightly too much information. Mentally making a note to buy ear plugs – she really did not need an account if they ever made it to the bedroom – Pansy cleared her throat and stood up, the blatant action forcing Draco to shut up and look at her. 

"What?"

"I have a meeting with some parents. And you have to go bribe House Elves."

Nodding, Draco stood up and reached over the desk, squeezing Pansy's arm briefly. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Anything. Everything. For playing your part in the random series of events that has brought me to this point in my life."

Pansy was stunned speechless and reached out to cup Draco's face gently, before smacking him lightly. "Don't be so bloody soft. Now go get some food for tonight and toss one out, you don't want to do an early finish with Harry later." 

Before Draco could respond to such uncouthness from his friend she had swept out of the office, leaving Draco alone with some very distressing mental images.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Putting the finishing touches to the table, Draco stood back to survey his handiwork and smiled. Running a hand over his hair to check the full blonde locks lay perfectly in place, Draco smiled as the plucky young knight that guarded his door appeared in the secondary portrait. "A dashing Sir Potter to see you, my Lord!"

"You can drop that formality right now, Edward."

"Got ya. Sex on legs asking admittance."

Grinning at the portrait, Draco shooed him back to his frame and crossed to open the door, stepping back to let Harry in. He had to agree with Edward's second assessment – Harry was sex on jean-clad legs. Draco had always been one for the preppy look, and Harry's crisp white shirt collar peeked out from a soft blue jumper, complimenting the dark blue jeans perfectly. The brunette caught him looking and gestured a hand vaguely, grinning. "I'm slowly remembering just how cold this castle gets at night."

Draco smiled and nodded his agreement, stepping back and gesturing to the table he'd set in place. "I thought if we ate and talked at the table, there'd be more chance of us getting some work done. But I see you've run with not bringing any at all."

Harry flushed and ran a hand through his hair. "I… sorry, I didn’t know you wanted to work. I can go… and get… I can…"

Smiling, Draco made a small mental note – Harry ran his hands through his hair when he was embarrassed or nervous – before deciding to be bold. Slowly, he stepped forward and leant in to kiss Harry; a small, chaste kiss that barely brushed the corners of their lips together. When he went to pull back, Draco found his face captured between soft hands, and Harry was tipping his head to kiss him properly, pressing their mouths together and flicking his tongue over Draco's lips, finding the crease and worming inside. Draco relaxed into the embrace, one arm moving around Harry's neck, fingers tangling in his hair, and the other slinging around his waist. 

It all felt so natural. They moved in a sync that some couples spent months trying to find. They fit together beautifully; Harry slightly bigger than Draco but not by more than an inch either way. Draco's fingers, which had been stroking slow circles on Harry's lower back, got more daring, dipping into his jeans and feeling the soft, warm skin begin to curve out. Curiosity and sheer lust got the better of him and Draco's fingers moved lower down, finding Harry's cleft and stroking over the sensitive skin. The brunette shuddered against him, whimpering into the kiss as the sensitive ridge of skin was stimulated. Draco felt a thrum of something so much more than arousal run through him, that he could bring such pleasure so simply.

Harry jerked, and for a brief and blissful moment, Draco arched in preparation of being slammed against the wall, of being taken and claimed and fucked, and every other adjective he could think of. But instead Harry pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkling. Draco knew his own lips were a red and kiss-swollen as Harry's, and he smiled softly as the brunette chuckled, "Forward, aren't you?"

"Always have been. I see what I want and I take it."

Harry's eyes flicked down to Draco’s crotch then back up to his face, and Draco held his breath, waiting to see what the brunette would do. He was partly disappointed when Harry shook his head slightly, and cleared his throat. "Can I use your bathroom, before we eat?"

Pointing Harry in the right direction, Draco darted into the kitchen and downed some water, soothing his dry throat and calming him slightly. When Harry returned Draco was seated at the table pouring out wine, and he smiled as Harry sat down across the table from him. As they shared food and wine they swapped stories about their lives – Harry choked on a piece of brie when Draco confessed to trying to convince himself he was straight by dating Pansy, and fainting when she took her bra off – and tales of their hopes and dreams, some attained, some not. 

At some point they'd moved to the large, comfortable couch in front of the fire, and at a lull in the conversation, Harry realised he was sat with Draco Malfoy nestled between his thighs, back to chest, and idly stroking the blonde's forearm as his chin rested on top of soft hair. Harry chuckled, and Draco shifted in his arms. "What?"

"Just thinking. What should I call you?"

Twisting around, Draco shot Harry a small sneer and rolled his eyes. "'Draco' seems to have been working thus far."

Flicking Draco on the nose, Harry smiled at the indignant expression – perhaps purebloods didn't flick each other – and dropped a kiss on Draco's nose, feeling it scrunch up at the sickening cuteness of the act. "Very snarky. If the thought didn't gross me out I'd say you were channelling Severus. I meant… this. What is this? What do I call it? I feel a bit old to be having a boyfriend so what do I call you?"

Shifting so he was on his knees between Harry's open thighs, Draco rested his hands on the brunette's shoulders, looking down at Harry as green eyes looked up at him. "Your lover?"

Settling back, allowing Draco to slide on top of him as they shifted to lie on the sofa, Harry smirked softly. "But you aren't, are you?"

"Not yet."

"Planning to seduce me, Professor Malfoy?"

Smirking, Draco leant down, nuzzling Harry's face gently, aiming to kiss the brunette senseless but was interrupted by Edward's voice. "Loathe as I am to stop you, some students have exploded a classroom. Redheaded students. And Teddy's on his own."

Cursing, the two men jumped up, straightening their clothes as they grabbed wands and hurried out of Draco's rooms. It wasn't hard to work out where the incident had taken place – they simply followed the tendrils of azure smoke and the sound of yelling. Reaching the impact point, Harry and Draco stopped in the doorway and just watched.

Fred and Oliver were stood, heads hung in shame, next to Alex Cross and Ian Flynn. The four Gryffindors were thick as thieves and Harry wasn't surprised that they were in whatever trouble this was, together. What was surprising was the sight of Teddy Lupin with flaming red hair, towering over the four charred third years and yelling blue murder at them.

"What the _hell_ do you think you are playing at?! I have _never_ seen such blatant disregard for the safety of yourselves and the safety of every other occupant in this castle…"

"But Teddy, Dad said…"

"IT IS MR. LUPIN! WHEN WE ARE IN SCHOOL I AM YOUR TEACHER, AND YOU WILL SHOW ME THE RESPECT THAT COMMANDS!"

Teddy had inherited his mother's easy-going nature and the twins flinched away from the near unheard-of sight of him yelling. Harry watched as the young man took a deep breath and he could hear Teddy fighting to keep his voice level. "The four of you have detention with Mr. Filch on Saturday night, and I'll have five points from Gryffindor for each of you. Now get to bed." 

Stepping back so that the four boys could leave, Harry met Teddy's eyes and stepped into the room, surveying the cracked stones and general debris from whatever prank they'd been setting up. Teddy slumped back against a desk; springing back up as its remaining two legs gave up the ghost and splintered. The three men surveyed the wrecked desk, and Harry rested his hand on Teddy's shoulder. "Feels weird to be yelling, huh?"

Sighing, Teddy ran a hand through his hair, scrunching up his face as he turned it back to its normal turquoise, albeit with some streaks of red running through it. "Yeah. Bloody little gits, they're trying to start up their own… god knows what. Some rival insanity to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

Draco surveyed the room quietly before stepping in and mending a desk with a flick of his wand. "What spell was it?"

"They were trying to improve the indoor fireworks range. Hence their charred appearance."

"Oh, I just assumed you'd hexed them a bit before you yelled."

The dry, deadpan tone was enough to break the stress in the atmosphere, and within seconds Teddy was clutching his sides laughing, Harry propped up on his shoulder and Draco leaning on the freshly mended desk. Finally regaining some semblance of sanity, Teddy wiped tears from his eyes and straightened up. "Better tidy up."

Harry shrugged. "Why? They'll need something to do on their detention. They can clean up in here."

"No magic."

Turning to grin at Draco, Harry nodded. "You read my mind!"

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Between one student and another, Harry and Draco couldn't find an evening to spend with each other for the next fortnight. Though they marked in the same room – swapping between Harry's and Draco's offices – there was no canoodling, only a quick kiss as they went to their separate beds. So both men were thrumming and jumpy when they finally reached Hogsmeade on a cool, crisp Saturday morning in October. 

Sharing a drink in the Three Broomsticks, they spent most of the day ambling aimlessly, picking up supplies and chattering away. At some point they'd started to talk about events gone by, and both apologised for the indiscretions of youth without realising it, but both were glad it had happened. 

As they began heading back to Hogwarts, still teasing each other about school games, Harry shook his head and leered at Draco. "Admit it – you were passionately in love with me at school. It's the only explanation!"

Draco scoffed, taking one hand out of his pocket to shove Harry lightly. "I was not! You were the one stalking me in sixth year!"

"I wasn't stalking…"

"Harry, you used to follow me into bathrooms!"

Flushing, Harry shoved back. "Shut it. Pillock."

Grinning, Draco recalled a particularly good insult from their youth. "Well, you can't spell Harry Potter without Prat!"

Yelling in mock outrage, Harry tackled Draco to the ground, rolling them off the path and into the trees. It was shameful, two grown men acting like lovesick teenagers, but it was fun. Harry got to muss up Draco's hair with dead leaves, and Draco got to shamelessly grope Harry. It was only the sound of approaching students that pulled them apart, and Harry surreptitiously shifted his jeans over his aching cock. Catching Draco doing the same, Harry backed the blonde up against a tree and latched onto his neck, sucking hard enough to mark before he pulled back and rested his forehead on Draco's, eyes meeting. "Do you want to… aah… come back with me?"

It took a moment to process the request, but when he had done, Draco moaned low in his throat, nodding his assent and grinning when Harry laced their fingers together and began heading back to Hogwarts at great speed. They made it back in record time, and as they walked up the steps and through the doors, Draco's mind was already taking bets on what Harry would be like, the things he'd do and say. And then his plans were scuppered. Stood inside the Entrance Hall looking worried was Victoire. Seeing Harry, she bolted over and flung her arms around him. "It's Teddy! Someone hadn't cleaned a cauldron properly and there was an accident."

Harry's arousal vanished, and he squeezed Victoire tight, feeling the young girl trembling in fear. "Where is he?"

"With Madame Pomfrey, but they won't let me in!"

Nodding, Harry bit back on his anger. Teddy wasn't a full teacher so his relationship with Victoire wasn't banned, but they'd had to tone things down so as not to upset any of the parents. Catching Draco's eyes, Harry saw the same worry there, and knew he wouldn't have to apologise or explain. Silently, he spun Victoire around and, keeping one arm tightly around her, headed up to the Hospital wing.


	9. Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 2870  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Clichés and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay, Bath!Sex  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.  
 **Author's Notes** \- 

 

 

 

When Teddy opened his eyes, he was a little surprised to find he didn't hurt too much. He ached, but there was no crippling pain. Starting at his toes, he flexed each muscle and joint, finding each one in full working order. When he'd flexed his head each way, he finally noticed the three people sat a little way away and cleared his throat. "Hey guys."  
Teddy immediately regretted not being dead as Draco, Harry and Victoire advanced on him, each yelling.

"…any idea how worried we've been…"

"…of all the stupid things to do…"

"…first rule of potion-making, clean your cauldron…"

Luckily the yelling had alerted Madam Pomfrey and she shushed them all while she ran diagnostic spells on him. Assured that he was all right, she turned to the others and glared. "You may speak with Teddy one at a time, and you will keep your voices quiet and your temperament even. Miss Weasley, as it is nearly curfew, you may go first. Fifteen minutes, no argument."

No one would have dared argue with her anyway, and Harry and Draco moved quietly to wait outside while Victoire took her fifteen minutes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

By the time Draco sat down in the chair next to Teddy's bed the poor boy had the look of someone who'd been severely chastised from all sides. Before Draco could open his mouth, Teddy had spoken softly, his voice catching on tiredness and worry. "Are you going to fail me?"

"I… what?"

"Are you going to fail me? I fucked up… if you're going to fail me, will you tell me now so I don't do a whole year in vain and…"

"Teddy, I'm not failing you."

"…get another job and… what?"

"First, Teddy, I don't have the power. Second; you made a mistake we all make. If you're serious about completing your Mastery you need to make peace with the fact that every stupid mistake there is to make, you are going to make them all. It's part of the learning process."

Draco had never seen anyone looking as relieved as Teddy did, and he smiled softly. The young man had grown on Draco and he was pleased to call Teddy his student, and would be proud to call him his Mastery Applicant. "Get some rest and I'll see you in the morning."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Monday morning brought Teddy fit and healthy and bounding about his classroom, Draco's mind could stop making him be moral and allow him to seethe and wallow in the sheer disappointment that was getting five minutes from being in his bed with a horny and willing Harry, and being thwarted. It was unfair, and Draco just hoped he wasn't visibly pouting in front of his sixth years. The parchment in front of him, which was supposed to contain a lesson plan for next week, instead contained scribbled lines and crosshatches. He'd been doodling as his mind wandered, and Draco incinerated the ruined parchment with a hissed spell. 

Brushing the ashes to the floor, he stood up and moved to walk among his students. Belittling their feeble potions attempts would cheer him up.

Severus had taught him so many useful skills.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry stared at the essay in front of him and cursed silently. He wasn't in the mood for marking, or teaching for that matter. Oh, no, what he was in the mood for was four floors below him and probably never going to look at him again after all the false starts they'd had. Why he hadn't just pinned Draco to the desk and fucked him senseless when they'd shared detention, he did not know. An irritating voice in the back of his mind, that sounded suspiciously like Severus had gotten sick of haunting his dreams and moved onto waking moments too, pointed out he'd waited because that way, when the lust cooled down, there'd be something more between them. Something to build a relationship on.

But that said and done, Harry already knew there was more than sheer lust there, and he was ready to take things a little further.

Rolling his eyes, Harry stood up and cleared his throat. Time for the practical demonstration. "Okay, has everyone got their potato and peeler?" 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco rounded the corner and saw Harry heading down the corridor. He was about to call out when he noticed the towel slung over Harry's shoulder. That could only mean one thing – Harry was heading to the staff baths. Draco smirked and a devious plan came to mind. Ducking back around the corner, he gave Harry a five minute head start before following him to the staff bathroom.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry smiled as he sank into the hot, fragrant water. He did a few laps of the pool-sized bath before settling against the cushion-charmed sides and letting his eyes slip closed. He was just considering moving his right hand from leaning on the edge and indulging in some fun when the door opened and closed. As he opened his eyes to tell whoever it was he'd be out in five minutes, he saw Draco and fell silent. The blonde smirked at him and let one hand dangle lightly off his hip. "You don't mind if I join you?"

Before Harry could find enough sense to respond, Draco shot it all to pieces again with the one fluid movement it took to shrug out of his outer robe. Harry knew his mouth was open and his eyes were wide, but he couldn't have done anything about it even if he'd tried. All he could do was watch long, pale fingers pop open the buttons on a soft grey shirt, exposing a firm, hairless chest as the material fell open and to the floor. 

_'There's no way he's going to… oh gods, he's undoing his trousers…'_

Harry watched in silent awe as Draco undid the fly before stepping out of his shoes and toeing off his socks. He was sure that the blonde would slip in wearing his boxers or ask Harry to look away… even Draco wasn't bold enough to…

"Nnghh…"

Draco smirked as Harry's eyes followed the waist band of his trousers as it slipped down, over his hips to reveal the thatch of tight curls that sat above his cock. Harry's eyes followed lower, taking in Draco's rosy sac and lean legs. Kicking his trousers to the side, Draco lowered himself gracefully into the pool, letting his eyes slip closed as he enjoyed the sensation of warm water lapping at his body. When he opened his eyes Harry was gone, and Draco smirked as he felt the water displace near him, Harry bobbing up a few feet away and shaking his wet hair out of his eyes. "If I didn't know you were already fully aware of it, I’d tell you just how good you look."

Smirking coyly, Draco submerged himself under the water, bobbing back up and pushing his damp hair back from his face. "I look much better close up."

Though Harry smiled, he didn't come any closer, and Draco felt a small seed of doubt spring in his chest. As he was about to apologise, Harry reached out and ran his fingers down Draco's cheek. "Are you sure? Because I don't want this to be a one time thing."

"Well, show me that you're good and it won't be."

Harry laughed and moved forward through the water, pinning Draco to the side of the bath and leaning forward to lick a bead of water from his jaw line. His voice was low and sultry, and he was glad Draco responded to it with a whimper, because Harry didn’t have another bedroom voice. "How about I make you scream my name, then take you to my bed and penetrate you, slow and deep until you forget how to breathe, make this beautiful body arch and tense and tremble. Would that be good, Draco?"

Draco choked on a moan and Harry seemed to take that as consent, because suddenly the brunette was everywhere, licking and nipping and sucking, hands stroking all over Draco before moving to his cock. Draco's head dropped back and a moan ran through his chest as large, strong hands wrapped around his cock and sac, rolling the tight ovals and stroking from base to tip, with a little flick at the end that had Draco convulsing forward, hands scrabbling at Harry's back. 

This was what Harry wanted, what he'd been searching for with nameless escorts. Someone whose moans were heartfelt, not Oscar-worthy. Whose entire body trembled at his touch because they enjoyed it, not because he was paying them a pretty penny. Someone whose pleasure increased his own. Pressing his face into Draco's neck, he inhaled the blonde's scent as he listened to the harsh pants in his ear. He flicked his tongue out, laving the spot behind the lobe of Draco's ear, and felt the other man tremble. That was a sensitive spot, discovered, and Harry focused his attention there, his cock twitching with every choking moan he drew from the blonde. 

"Harry… Har~…"

Draco keened as the hand that had been rolling his sac slid behind him, burrowing into his cleft and stroking clever fingers over his entrance. The stimulation overloaded him, and Draco tipped his head back, a stream of words, of _'gods'_ and _'Harry'_ , escaping his lips as he shook in Harry's grip. The brunette didn't let up, squeezing every drop from Draco as he rubbed against his thigh. The warm water may have disguised the sensation of come splashing against his thigh, but Harry's soft cry and his collapsing into Draco's arms made his orgasm clear. 

The stayed wrapped around each other for long minutes as they came down, the water lapping softly around them and causing them to sway slightly. Draco grizzled when Harry pulled out of his arms, opening his eyes and smiling softly at the spaced out look in Harry's eyes. The brunette ducked forward for a kiss, hot and vicious, that left Draco's knees weak, then pulled back and rested his forehead against Draco's. "Come to bed with me?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

They'd left the bathroom separately, and Draco smiled softly at the hawk guarding Harry's rooms. The bird allowed the portrait to swing open, and Draco twisted the door handle and walked into the room. The door was barely closed behind him when Harry had pulled him into a kiss, laving Draco's teeth and tongue as his fingers worked to undo Draco's shirt buttons and fly. For his part, Draco went lax in Harry's arms, leaning back against the wall and cupping Harry's face. Their fun in the bath had been doubly useful; it left Draco free to enjoy this without worrying about coming too soon.

Biting down on the soft skin of Draco's neck, Harry sucked and worried the flesh, feeling it heat as blood rushed to the surface. Satisfied Draco would be marked for days; Harry drew back and nipped playfully at Draco's lips. "Bedroom's through here."

Draco laughed as Harry took his hands, walking backward as he led Draco into the bedroom so that he could keep up eye contact. When his calves hit the edge of the bed, Harry dropped backwards and pulled Draco with him, tumbling them onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and clothes. Draco laughed, disengaging himself and pulling his clothes off quickly, pressing his hands to Harry's chest and forcing the brunette back onto the bed as he growled and tried to capture Draco in his arms. "Come here!"

"No. Just lie there and be good. I still haven't had a look."

Allowing Draco to pull off the jumper he was wearing, Harry folded his hands behind his head and lay back against the pillow as a very naked Draco Malfoy straddled his waist. Draco's eyes and fingers ran everywhere, tracing over Harry's chest as the blonde mapped him out. Leaning forwards, soft hair tickled Harry's skin as Draco pressed soft kisses to each nipple, waiting until they'd hardened before sliding down the bed and off Harry. It felt good, having somebody else's fingers popping the button on his trousers, snicking the zipper down and pushing the material over his hips. 

Getting his first proper look at Harry's cock, Draco hummed in contentment and looked up at the brunette. "Lube?"

Summoning over the tube, Harry passed it to Draco and wondered what the blonde had planned. It suddenly occurred to him that Draco might not be a bottom, and that would cause problems. But as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Draco wrapped plump lips around the head of his cock, and Harry's words died on his lips as he tossed his head back and groaned. He could hear the lid of the lubricant flip open, and Harry fought to find enough lucidity to see what Draco was doing. What he saw made his whole body jerk up against Draco, burying himself deeper in the blonde's accommodating throat. 

Draco held Harry's shaft, suckling the head as he knelt over long legs. Once he was properly balanced and had squeezed a generous amount of lubricant onto his fingers, Draco tossed the tube to the side and slid his hand behind his back, stroking himself a few times before pressing two sticky fingers inside. He heard a string of grunted expletives as Harry bucked up against him, and let the brunette slide deeper into his mouth. The ache, to have Harry inside him, could be felt in every cell in his body, and Draco's arse clenched around his fingers as he slid a third in and flexed as best he could. 

When his patience finally ran out, Draco withdrew his hand and slipped his mouth off Harry's cock, stroking the rigid flesh with his lube-coated fingers a few times before he rose on his hands and knees, crawling up Harry's body to kiss the brunette. He moaned as Harry's wandering fingers toyed with his loosened entrance before one settled on his hip, guiding him down onto Harry's cock. He had to pull back form the kiss to draw breath as he was slowly penetrated. Sitting back up, Draco arched his back as he came to rest sat in Harry's lap, deliciously full and stretched by the cock inside him. 

Harry's breathing was ragged and catching, and the sight and sensation of Draco sat in his lap, shifting minutely to acclimatise, was possibly the greatest thing Harry had ever seen or felt. He rested his hands on Draco's thighs, stroking the soft skin as he waited for the blonde to move, to give an okay for Harry to plunge into the tight heat over and over. 

Draco considered teasing Harry, making the brunette's evident need to thrust wait, but that would mean denying himself and Draco didn't have the control to wait any longer. Resting his hands flat on Harry's chest, he raised himself up and slammed back down, yelping as Harry swore. It felt incredible, the swollen glans of Harry's cock stimulating his prostate perfectly. Draco repeated the action, feeling sweat bead on his skin and run in rivers down his body, meeting with Harry's as they moved together. 

Stroking his hands up and down Draco's flanks, Harry pulled Draco down against his chest, kissing the blonde as he manoeuvred them over. As they rolled, they got caught in the sheets, and Harry slipped free from Draco's body, making both of them growl in dissatisfaction. Tossing the sticky sheet off the end of the bed, Harry grabbed Draco's ankles and hooked them over his shoulders, guiding his cock back into his lover and watching pleasure colour the blonde's expression. Harry kept up that position, holding Draco's body to give him the deepest possible thrusting room, until the need to kiss the blonde again got too great. 

As his legs slipped off Harry's shoulders, Draco wrapped them around the brunette's waist and rose up to meet Harry halfway, pulling them back down to the bed as they kissed. Draco could taste salt and Harry's unique crisp, minty taste in the kiss, as well as the coppery tang of blood where one of them had gotten over excited. His sac was tight against his body, just needing that final push, and from Harry's erratic thrusts and breathy grunts, the brunette was close too. As Harry thrust in particularly hard Draco yelled, clamping down on Harry's cock as he painted their bellies with little spurts of white. He felt Harry fighting to thrust through the vice like grip of his inner walls one, twice more before the brunette added his own orgasmic cry to the sounds echoing off the walls, collapsing into Draco's sweaty embrace.

As his senses came back to him, Harry lifted his body up, meeting Draco's spaced out gaze and grinning. "m'I squishing you?"

Matching the dopey smile on Harry's face, Draco rolled his shoulder easily. "A little."

Wrinkling his nose as he slipped out of Draco, Harry collapsed to the side and stared up at the canopy. When he heard Draco stifle a yawn, he turned his head to face the blonde. "Will you stay here?"

"After that? I'm never leaving again."


	10. Nineteen Years Later

**Title** \- Nineteen Years Later  
 **Author** \- SoftlySweetly"  
 **Beta** \- She Who Is Too Awesome To Be Named (or Potion_Lady for the brave)  
 **Rating** \- NC17  
 **Word Count** \- 840  
 **Summary** \- The war is over, and now things can begin anew  
 **Characters/Pairings** \- *snickers* who'd you think? All right – Harry/Draco, Teddy/Victoire  
 **Warnings** \- **Canon to DH:UK:600** Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Clichés and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay, Implied Het  
 **Disclaimer** \- I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.  
 **Author's Notes** \- A massive, incredible thank you to Lady, who has put up with _a lot_ from me over this story, up to and including chapters not being sent to her until about five hours before they're supposed to post, and never once complained or sporked me.

And of course, thank you to everyone that read and reviewed this story. Y'all rock!

Some text taken direct from the UK edition of Deathly Hallows.

 

 

 

Pansy summoned over a hair band, scraping her long black locks into a tight ponytail, and inwardly promised to do something about the streaks of grey that were starting to run through it. Tapping her fingers on the table, she looked up and glared at the two teachers who strolled in late to the staff meeting. "Remind me again why I employ you two?" 

Harry shrugged, and sat down in a chair, splitting the stack of parchment he'd been carrying and giving Draco's things to the blonde as he sat down on Harry's left side. "Haven't got a clue. I'm still waiting for you to advertise the Muggle Studies job so's I can go back to…"

"Sitting on your arse at home?"

Harry swiped Draco round the head, ruffling the perfectly groomed hair that was still thick and full, belying its owner’s fifty-five years. "Because you do so much work, teaching all of three students."

Draco sniffed, but ignored Harry's snide remark. When Teddy had attained his Mastery, the fastest attainment since Severus Snape had completed it in two years; Draco and Pansy had sat down with him and offered him the teaching position at Hogwarts. When Teddy had accepted, Draco had taken the role of Master Potion Maker, providing the school with the potions it needed, sending out potions to St. Mungo's and the Creature shelters, and teaching other Mastery Applicants. It worked out very well, and the competition to study under him was fierce across the globe. 

Somehow Harry had never quite left his temporary position as Muggle Studies Professor. That first Christmas had come and gone in the sparkling haze of a new relationship, and before Harry knew it he was being presented with a beautiful pocket watch to mark his ten years teaching at Hogwarts. Harry felt a small flush as he remembered what he and Draco had planned to celebrate twenty years teaching here, and nearly twenty years together. But now was not the time, so Harry put away his thoughts and focused on the pre-term staff meeting. It was a shame the students were coming back – Harry had quite enjoyed he and Draco being damn-near alone in the castle…

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco rinsed his mouth of toothpaste and summoned the towel, drying his face before he flicked off the bathroom light and headed to the bedroom he and Harry had officially shared since their bonding ceremony nearly fifteen years ago. Sliding beneath the quilt, Draco got comfortable as Harry finished up his lesson plan, banishing the quill, ink, and parchment to his study with a wave of his hand, and took his glasses off, putting them on the bedside table.

He waited while Harry got comfortable before reaching out to stroke his Mate's cheek, running his fingers through thick black hair shot through with the first few tendrils of silver. He smiled as Harry shuffled closer to him, and they indulged in a sweet kiss, pressing their bodies together and enjoying the companionable closeness. When Harry pulled back he stroked a finger down Draco's nose, smiling as the cutesy gesture made the blonde scowl. "You'll get wrinkles."

"How dare you! Malfoys do not get wrinkles!"

"Everyone gets wrinkles! And grey hair and…"

"Malfoys do not."

Smiling at his Mate's contrariness, Harry settled into a comfortable position to sleep in, Draco moving to rest against his broad shoulder. "Do Malfoys not succumb to the ravages of time then?" 

Pressing a kiss to the smooth skin beneath his head, Draco stifled a yawn and reached his arm across Harry's body, finding the brunette's fingers and lacing them with his. "No, Malfoys only succumb to the ravages of their lovers."

"Speaking of, we still have to get Pansy out of her office, and then do it in green house three."

"Nineteen damn years later, and we still haven't christened every room?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "There are over five hundred rooms here. Besides, only two left, and we're all done."

"Fantastic. We'll do them tomorrow, and then at the weekend we can start again."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rolling over, Teddy wrapped his arm around Victoire's waist and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. His beautifully athletic wife taught the brats flying, and he enjoyed helping her exercise. Smiling as she nuzzled back into his arms, Teddy spoke softly, so as not to break the peaceful vibes in the room. "Tomorrow, we'll do Pansy's office and green house three, and then we're finished. Every room in Hogwarts christened." 

Nodding, Victoire pressed a kiss to the arm her head was resting on. "And then, we can start all over again." 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry rose up on his elbow, unable to sleep in the close warmth of late July. So instead, he watched Draco sleeping, the blonde's face smooth and relaxed. Running his free hand first over Draco's cheek, and then through his own hair, Harry felt the slight raise of the lightning bolt scar on his head. The scar had not pained Harry for many decades. All was well.

 

 

Finish.


End file.
